One Pound Meat, One More Attribute Point

The blood sprayed out a full ten meters, painting the ceiling overhead, the distant bookcases, and even the screen in the corner all a dark red. The air was thick with a rich, decayed, bloody scent, as if one had abruptly arrived on a battlefield.

Yuan Hong was shocked and pale.

He immediately dashed forward a step, reaching out to support Song Pingzhang’s arching, convulsing back, "Brother Pingzhang, what has happened to you?"

Song Pingzhang’s limbs were violently twitching, his face twisted in agony, and a blackened hand clung desperately to Yuan Hong’s arm. His eyes bulged outwards, bloodshot and continuously swelling with blood. Opening his mouth, he seemed to want to say something, but gushes of blood mixed with chunks of viscera sprayed out.

This scene was incredibly horrifying, as if he was about to cough out every organ in his body alive.

Even Yuan Hong, the Great General who had often seen mountains of corpses and seas of blood, turned an iron shade upon witnessing such a scene. The two maids beside him grew weak at the knees and collapsed to the ground, but still pressed their hands firmly over their mouths, not daring to make a sound.

Yuan Hong took out a bottle of elixirs from his bosom, uncorked it, and poured it frantically into Song Pingzhang’s mouth.

Unfortunately, by this time Song Pingzhang was already at the end of his rope. Find exclusive stories on empire

He simply couldn’t swallow it.